


Play With Me

by SyntheticStarfire



Category: The Fall (TV 2013)
Genre: Angst, Co-workers, F/F, Fluff, Pining, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:00:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24429862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SyntheticStarfire/pseuds/SyntheticStarfire
Summary: It started with one night and should have stayed just that. Maybe two nights. Possibly three. It's all these possibilities that complicate things too much.You're a police officer, recently demoted to a PC after a little conflict with the leaders. During the last days of your "vacation", you are caught in a downpour which leads to you seeking shelter in a bar. There you meet a blonde woman that you feel like you should know but can't remember. Soon it doesn't matter as you find yourself in her bed.
Relationships: Stella Gibson/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	1. First Night

**Author's Note:**

> So... I'm really terrible with writing long, chaptered fics but I can't resist the power Stella has. Let's hope this works out.
> 
> Warnings: smut

It was a cold, dreary night. The streets glistened, rain pouring from the sky as if it was being torn apart. The roaring of the thunder only fueled your vivid imagination. Perhaps it would be best to seek out shelter. You knew a hotel with a pretty good bar was located in the area. Well, not what you had in mind for tonight but maybe this downpour was a sign. You do have only a few days of your holiday left.

Stepping inside, you shake off your umbrella and coat, folding it over your arm. It already feels much better, warm and with pleasant slow jazz music playing in the background. What wonders would some liquor work. You make your way to the bar and order your drink of choice. Drinking alone, however, seems somewhat lonely. You'd much rather have a company. It is much needed after being holed up in your home, enjoying your staycation. 

Looking around the room, your eyes are instinctively drawn to a particular table. There's a woman sitting opposite to a man. His mere presence dampens your mood. You know him rather well through your job, that bastard. And the woman, a petite blonde, seems familiar too. You've seen her before, you feel like you should know her but you can't seem to remember. That naturally serves to pique your interest. That and the fact that it seems he's actually bothering the woman. You can't say it would surprise you if that sucker was pathetic enough to hit on ladies despite their obvious lack of enthusiasm.

Just as you're about to snap and go take a look at what's happening, the barman hands you your drink and the man is standing up and leaving. Good. Your moods returns to its original point. But not for long. Suddenly there's a pair of silver eyes meeting yours. Curious it seems. Then the eyes start to wander.  _ She's checking me out.  _ You realize and hardly fight the smirk from spreading on your lips. She doesn't have to move or say anything. You understand and accept her invitation when she offers one after she decides she's satisfied with what she sees. 

You take your glass and walk over. She's watching you getting closer. You don't make the same mistake the man made.

"Can I sit down?" 

She keeps her eyes on yours, as if studying you.

"Depends. Are you another journalist?"

You do smirk at that. It’s the opposite actually.

"I wish. Would make my life much easier." 

Although probably true, you say it with humor. She watches you for a while longer before sighing.

"Then you may." 

She says, pointedly watching as you take the seat the man was occupying just minutes ago. Were the circumstances different, you'd feel disgusting. But she's intriguing. Gorgeous and mysterious, and her voice makes your skin tingle. Perhaps it was destined for you to end up here.

“So if you’re not a journalist, why were you so interested in the little conversation I was having?”

She asks and you suppose it’s fair. You  _ were  _ staring at them for longer than is probably polite.

“Let’s just say I know the guy and would use any excuse to kick his ass,” you shrug, honest. 

She seems amused by the statement.

“How come?” she quirks a brow. The feeling that she’s studying every little thing about you has yet to disappear. 

“Work related. But it’s so late already, let’s talk about something better.”

“Like?” 

She says it like it’s a challenge. Half you wants to respond with something cheesy like “what is such a pretty lady doing all alone in a bar?” but you don’t actually care and judging from the conversation so far, she wouldn’t tell you. 

You lick your lips. It doesn’t escape your sight how her eyes linger on your tongue and moist lips. You suppress a smirk.

“Like how you seem to be more interested in me than you were in him,” you say in the end, feeling bold and risky. 

“Is that a problem?” she keeps a straight face although there’s a glint in her eyes that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Not at all.” You do smirk this time. 

“You suggested he’s an asshole anyway.”

“You have no idea,” you laugh. She also smiles as if she understood. It really does feel like you should know her.

You have no time to dwell on that thought however as you feel a tip of a high-heel sliding up and down your calf. A shiver runs up and down your spine.

“So tell me, do you have any plans for tonight?” she leans a millimeter closer but it’s enough. Her eyes are shining in the white light and she looks breathtaking. And she clearly knows what she’s doing which potentially promises a very interesting night. 

“Depends,” you say, taking a long sip of your drink. You notice she too is almost finished with her wine. 

She quirks a brow at you, prompting you to explain. 

“Depends on whether or not you have a room here,” you tell her.

“Why is that?” she asks. The upward tilt to her lips is back.

“Well, I have a strong belief that it’s better to be killed in a hotel room than in someone’s home. Or my own for that matter.”

She seems genuinely amused at your remark. She leans even closer. Her eyes sparkle with curiosity and you know you should better be careful. Those eyes could make you fall hard.

“Is that so? Is there any particular reason for that?” she asks and the amused smirk stays on her lips and  _ god  _ you have to stop yourself from pulling her by the hair and kissing her right then and there. She is well aware of the effect she has on you if the widening smirk is any indication.

“Well, it’s less personal. You know, like they can’t even be bothered to show me where they live or see my place. I find some comfort in that,” you smile almost too sweetly compared to the topic. You finish your drink.

“Interesting. I think I can see the appeal in that,” she gives you a smile herself. 

“No reassurance that you won’t kill me?” you tease.

“That would make it less exciting, wouldn’t it?” she smirks again and she stands up. She gives you a look over her shoulder. You follow.

-.-.-.-.-.-

She leads you up to her room, 203. It's a silent walk slash elevator ride. Not so subtle glances are exchanged, no words. Fingers brush against each other. She has you walking close to her, yet there's a bit of space separating you; almost like she doesn't want you to change your mind yet keeps her distance. It's strange. It's intriguing. Like everything about her. 

You reach her door and she lets you in. She slips the "Do not disturb" sign over the handle and closes the door. You breathe out, some of the liquid courage seeps out of you. Being with a strange woman in a strange room… that's not exactly your style. Although looking at her looking at you with such want in her grey eyes, you just might change whatever style you had. 

She stalks closer, careful measured steps. She seems so in control you start to wonder if she’s like that in bed too. Most likely. Not that you care. Especially not when she can work her dominance like that. 

Her hands slide up your arms to your shoulders. You reach out to grab her waist but she slaps your hands away. You give her a look but there are lips on yours and you can’t complain. Her mouth is soft, her kiss is not. She seems hungry for something and you give in, surrendering to her. You meet her lips with the same fervor and she seems to appreciate it enough to begin to undress you. 

Her hands are unbuttoning your blouse, only stopping in their track to move your hand when you try to touch her again. You laugh into her mouth and she takes that opportunity to slip her tongue inside. You moan and you can feel her smirk. Your blouse is on the ground, soon followed by your bra.

“What about you?” you break the kiss. She responds only by connecting your lips again, sealing your mouth shut with her tongue. She’s the one to end the deep kiss this time, throwing you on the bed. You land on your back and she’s on you. She kisses a path down your stomach. Her fingers make a quick work of your zipper and she pulls your pants and underwear down in one swift movement. You curse under your breath half at the speed at which she takes things, half at the fact that she’s still fully dressed. You’re not complaining too much though. It’s hot in its own way. Especially as you watch her pull down her own underwear you have to bite your lip not to moan. 

She notices, lust evident in her eyes as she crawls on top of you and attacks your lips once again. Her hands are all over you. Stroking your sides, then the inside of your thighs and then playing with your breasts, teasing your nipples until they’re hard and sensitive. She’s observant, you notice, as she focuses on the actions that get the most vocal reaction out of you. You bite her lower lip, tugging slightly. She lets out a little noise that travels right down between your legs. It’s too much really, she’s too much. Irresistible.

You flip her on her back. You reach out to touch her but she slaps your hand again for the third time that night. You growl and pin her to the bed with your body, one hand on each side of her head, her arms trapped by her sides. Your eyes meet hers. Then you slowly begin moving your hand down, threatening to touch her.

“Don’t,” she warns, her look cold and stern. You huff but obey. Perhaps she’s insecure or whatever. It’s a shame really. You can imagine how smooth her skin would be like it’s just begging to be touched. Whatever the case might be, it’s not your business. That is not to say you’re not curious. But this is just for one night. Maybe two if you both like what you'll get tonight.

So instead of touching her you give her one last kiss, hard and more teeth than tongue. You push her skirt higher. Then you get up. For a second she almost looks like she misses you on top of her, your warmth. But really it’s her problem because at the very least, she has clothes on to stop her from freezing.

You kneel at the foot of the bed, licking your lips at sight offered to you. You grab her thighs and pull her closer. If she doesn’t like it or the trail of open mouthed kisses you leave on her inner thighs, she doesn’t complain nor attempts to stop you. You lick and bite at the sensitive flesh and soon she’s squirming under your attention. You take that as your hint to move closer where she really wants you but not quite there. You tease her enough that she takes a fistful of your hair and forces your head where your demonstration is really needed.

You purr against her as you lick a long stripe at her center, curling the tip of your tongue around her clit as you do. Her back arches and her fingers claw into your scalp. You suck on the bundle of nerves and when her grip doesn’t easy, you gently catch it between your teeth. 

“Fuck, sorry,” she curses and untangles her fingers, instead you see her grip the sheets. As a reward, you begin lapping at her again while also pushing a finger inside of her, slowly, carefully. You drool at how wet she is, at the delicious noises she makes.

You decide that she deserves a little more teasing. You keep your fingering pace slow even as you add a second finger. You curl them in a way that you can hear makes her breath hitch. The muscles on her thighs are tense as you work her. You switch from paying generous and intense attention to her clit to gently licking close, keeping her on edge yet far from it. 

The few times she tried to make you speed up or stop teasing by grabbing your hair, you stopped with another gentle nibble to her clit. You can’t quite decide whether you enjoy more seeing her trash under your touch or squirm and whimper with the lack of it. You risk a glance up. Big mistake. 

Her skin, coated with a thin layer of sweat, seems to be glowing. She’s gorgeous. And looking straight at you. In this light her eyes seem almost blue. She holds your gaze even as you flick her tongue over clit, slowly, agonizingly gently in sweet little licks. She moans for you and makes a show of it too. You smirk but accept her game. She’s been so good after all. You speed up the movement of your fingers, curling and straightening them in way that she likes as you read her expressions. However, you keep your licks short and fleeting, pulling away any time she bucks her hips.

And she keeps holding your gaze. She’s moaning for you and it’s pure bliss. You are tempted to finish her off, see her come undone and lose another bit of composure. At the same time you’re drunk on the power you have over her, even as you have no doubts that she could take it from you if she wanted too. But perhaps she enjoys this as much as you do. You believe you’re right when you dart out your tongue again, pressing it flat against her and slowly licking up as you did when you started. The tip of your tongue plays with her clit again and she’s struggling to keep her eyes open, choking on her moans.

Then she does manage to open her eyes and they find yours again. Her brows furrowed and the silver under them clouded over with desire, need. If this would be the last sight you saw, you’d die happy. Her eyes slip down to your tongue, that you stick out on purpose in another short and unsatisfactory lick, and back to your eyes and she mouths a weak  _ please _ . 

That’s all it takes for you to lose it. You devour her. Finally your tongue catches up to the rhythm of your fingers and she hisses, knuckles white as she grips the sheets as if her life depended on it. It doesn’t take long and she’s cumming, all of her muscles tense and she lets out a strangled moan. You help her through it, gradually slowing down your pace until you let go of her. You leave a few more kisses on her thighs before you pull her skirt back down and crawl back over her.

You kiss her, letting her taste herself on your tongue. She doesn’t seem to mind one bit. The pace is slow, she’s still catching her breath. Somehow you resist touching her even though she looks adorable and like she  _ could  _ use some TLC. Almost as if reading your mind, she breaks the kiss.

“Your turn,” she breathes. You switch places, you on the bed and her above you. You swear this is what heaven should be like. 

-.-.-.-.-.-

You step out of the shower, dressed back in your pants and blouse. She’s lying on the bed in the same position she was when you left the room. The way she looks makes you feel strange. Something twists in your chest. You feel the need to make sure she’s okay but you guess that would be a bad idea. So you try to ignore it. 

“Can I leave my number? Or take yours?” you say instead. Maybe this will be good enough. Theoretically speaking, you’d be checking on her if you hooked up again.

She moves on the bed, takes one page of the little notebook on her bedside table and scribbles down a number. She hands it to you.

“Thanks. I’ll get going then,” you smile at her. She doesn’t return it. The feeling in your insides only grows.

“Goodnight,” you say as nonchalantly as you can but it isn’t enough. Some of the tenderness you feel must’ve slipped through because she raises your eyes to yours again. You give a smile and turn to leave.

“Goodnight.”

You hear her whisper as you push down the handle. You hesitate but shake your head and step outside, closing the door behind you. It’s alright. She’s alright. This is how it goes and neither of you meant more that what happened. Still you can’t get the image of her lying alone on the too big bed all by herself out of your head the whole way to your own home. There you collapse on your own bed that is too big for just one person. Fortunately, sleep comes quickly.


	2. Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're to return to work the next day. Nothing seems entertaining but you remember the number of the beautiful stranger is still in your phone.

You spend the next day cleaning, catching up with chores you procrastinated on. It's soothing. Dusting all the shelves and storage space, going through your wardrobe, making decisions what to keep, what to let go. Dorky dancing in the living room with music blasting as you vacuum the floors. You feel productive like you haven't felt in years. Your home is finally less of a mess. Just in time. In the last days before you're due to return to work you might manage to keep the place like this and enjoy it.

Alone.

You sigh as you plop down on the couch. Maybe yesterday was a mistake, although you can't quite bring yourself to think that way. Your legs still tremble at the fresh memory. Well, in any case it did fuel your need for human interaction. A thought crosses your mind and disappears. It's what it is. Just sex, nothing more. If nothing else, her strict rules about intimacy made it clear. And you really are fine with that except you feel bored and lonely, which sucks since you know that a pretty heavenly creature is staying in a hotel close by and might be DTF.

Still, it's probably for the best to avoid her for a while. You don’t want to seem clingy. And you know yourself well enough to understand what you need and what may happen if you follow the ridiculous thought of texting her in this mood. You have no desire to pursue a relationship with anyone, but you are lonely enough to dream of all the what ifs and perks that come with dating someone. That's even more risky than what you did yesterday. So instead when you pull out your phone you text a friend and wait. The white ceiling above your head allows you to relax and just think. But your mind is a mess and you groan in annoyance. It’s all  _ her  _ up in there. The feel of her fingers, her tongue, her mouth on yours. You think you might actually thank heavens when your phone buzzes. You get up and change into something casual but actually suitable to wear outside.

It’s nice. You feel good as you chat with your friend, one of the rare ones that do not double as your colleagues. Then again, it could be a good idea to catch up on what’s going on in work as well. All the office rumors you must be missing, the interesting cases… Then you remember that those will probably end up on someone else’s table and you think  _ fuck them _ . So what if there are any new rules or whatever. They’ll just have to wait for you to catch up. Lucky for you, your friend does not let you linger on work thoughts for too long.

As the evening turns to night, you realize it doesn’t differ from yesterday all that much. You sit in a bar, drink in your hand. Only the company isn’t quite as intriguing. Oh the baggage of long term relationships. You knew this person perhaps bit too well to ever consider dating them. 

“Wait wait wait, so you don’t even know her name?” your friends asks, laughing in disbelief.

“There was no need for it,” you roll your eyes, “I don’t need a name to moan.”

They give your arm a light smack. Your friend tries to inquire more, pry more information from you but you keep everything else to yourself. They already know you hooked up with a stranger whose name you don’t even know, that’s enough. It’s gonna be on your plate for a while, no need to make it worse. So instead you get nosy about their sexual life. It’s an effective way to change the topic.

You get home late, very late, although sooner than the day before. Your head is spinning, or maybe the world picked up the speed of its rotation. You pass out on the sofa. Climbing the stairs seems a herculean task right now.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Your forced holiday has all but run out. Finally tomorrow you’re to return. Hurray. It’s your last free night and yet you find yourself uninterested in all the differents shows and movies that netflix has to offer. What a waste. You turn to lie on your back and pull out your phone. 

Suddenly it occurs to you that you still have the beautiful stranger’s number. She’s saved as  _ Starlight _ . You couldn’t come up with anything better and it’s fitting. She’s beautiful but cold - just like stars, and the light dancing in her eyes was just too blinding not to reference. And it’s not like she’s ever going to find out. You play with your phone for a bit - there’s still the possibility of her giving you a fake number. In the end you’re just a bit too horny and, if you’re completely honest, you’re lusting for her. She knew what she was doing and she knew it well.

You send her a very short and very straightforward message. You half doubt you’ll get a response hence your surprise a few hours later when your phone buzzes. Her texting style is similar to yours - you’re to be in the same hotel room in an hour. You check your watch. It’s nine in the evening, that’s not too bad. 

After a quick shower, teeth brushing and such, you go change, opting this time for a knee-length light dress. Something easy to take off. It's just a short walk, you should be fine even if it’s cold outside. You put on a coat and off you go. 

You knock just as the clock on your phone switch to ten. You congratulate yourself. Soon the doors are opened and she's looking at you with those steel blue eyes. She seems different from the last time. The atmosphere is more tense. Still the smirk on her lips seems satisfied as she steps to the side to let you in.

"Punctuality is a virtue," she hums. You can feel her eyes on you as you take off your coat. 

"Well, I wouldn't want to keep you waiting," you shrug, "And I was pretty excited myself."

You watch her as she undresses you with her eyes before sighing. She runs a hand through her hair.  _ Bad day, huh?  _ You wonder if that's gonna change anything about her behavior in bed. A bit of roughness... it might be just what you need before your big day tomorrow.

"I suppose this isn't going to be a problem with you but anyway," she gives a sigh and sits at the end of the bed, "I hope you understand that  _ this _ won't grow into anything more. It's just fucking." 

"Duh," you smile.  _ Oh, I see. So that's what must have happened.  _ You're not surprised really. You already guessed she does this kind of thing pretty often. Probably chooses her lovers carefully too. Still, everyone slips sometimes. And you can see how someone might begin to hope for more. If you weren't so smart, you'd likely make the same mistake.

"Good," she smirks, "Now come here." She motions for you and you obey. You straddle her as she sits at the edge of the bed. She lets you put your hands around her neck. Your noses brush. She's so close and her eyes sparkle like stars. Her lips are calling to you. You remember their additive softness and taste well. But you know that once you start, you won't be able to stop or pause. And you're curious. Or maybe your friend’s words got to you.

"What's your name? I didn't catch it last time," you ask nonchalantly. Your mind fights with your body - one hungry for information, one yearning for touch. Your lips touch hers, softly caressing.

"Why so curious now?" she asks. The amused smirk is back but it doesn't seems she minds you asking. Then again, she is hard to read.

"I feel very vocal today," you purr and she chuckles in response. The tip of her tongue licks your lips teasingly. "And I think it would be rude to scream someone else's name." 

It's not a lie. You really do feel like being loud today. The way her fingers dance across your spine and your thighs only spurs you on. 

"Stella," she introduces herself. It's like there's a knock on the door to your mind. You are  _ sure _ you should know her. But you don't know why or how. You let it go as her hands slip under the hem of your dress.

"Stella," you let the name roll off your tongue. She watches you with darkened eyes. Stella. It's addictive, easy to say, to scream. Perfect. Like her. "I like it."

You kiss her. It's impossible to hold back with her. Your fingers entangle into her hair, pulling her head back to deepen the kiss. Your tongue slips into her mouth. Against your better judgment, you don't give in. Even as she gets aggressive. Your tongues are fighting and her teeth bite into the soft flesh of your lips. You gasp, but save yourself by pulling away. You put a finger against her lips. She gives you a questioning look. You introduce yourself as well, it's only fair. As your name leaves your lips, she takes your finger in her mouth. You growl.

It's rough this time. Everything. Kissing, fucking... It’s all so rough. Rough enough that you know you're gonna be sore the next day. Feeling the memory of her fingers in you every time you move should make your first day back at work worth it at least. Somehow you ended up naked while she stayed fully clothed. Again. The only frustrating thing about this is how much you want to see her naked body. Touch her. It’s the worst kind of teasing and yet it turns you on. She does it so well.

As you step out of the shower, she's leaning against the door frame. Droplets of water still cling to your body. You haven’t gotten to drying yourself off yet. She gives you a look. It's unfair - almost enough to make you whine. Your body already begins to ache. You suppose you should start working on your self control. You’re strong enough, or smart enough, to resist for a while though. You cross your arms over your naked chest, staring straight in her eyes. It’s a challenge.  _ Make me. Seduce me.  _ She watches you intently. Her silver eyes don't leave yours even as she starts unbuttoning her shirt. You watch as she undoes each button until her shirt hangs open. Your mouth is dry. Fuck it, you think, the night is still young.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Your alarm is merciless. You groan as you hit the snooze button for the third time. You really should get up but you're sore and exhausted. It was worth it though. Perhaps you're becoming self-destructive because even as you curse the pain, you wish tonight would be the same.

In your half-awake state, the memories are all too vivid. Her touch, the little sounds that escape her when she’s losing control, her breath on your skin… And it’s just the torturous loudness of your alarm again. You consider throwing it at the wall. You really can't ignore the alarm any longer though. You need to get up. They allowed you oh so graciously to stay, albeit at a lower rank, it wouldn't be too good to come in late on your first day. You groan as your head supplies various scenarios as to how the day could go. None of them is good.

Staring at the mirror as you brush your teeth, you remember more. More of  _ her _ . How she looked when you were leaving. She was actually watching you, not just seeing you. You can’t figure out how that makes you feel. Certainly not hopeful as far as relationship is concerned. Another night though… that wouldn’t be so bad. And she must be at least somewhat satisfied too. She doesn’t seem like the type who’d invite over someone who hasn’t given her what she wanted. You spit out the toothpaste.

Soon enough you’re at the station. Throughout your journey you realize that you were right. You  _ can  _ feel just how and where she touched you as your body aches. It’s delicious. It keeps you amused enough as you walk to the locker room and change into your uniform. Then you step out and Burns is there.  _ Fuck. _

“Come with me,” he tells you. How lucky you stopped expecting decent treatment ever since the night before the incident that lead to all this. Still, you don’t actually want to lose your job altogether so you follow.

He leads you through the halls. It’s a very familiar way and you wonder if he’s doing it on purpose. You’re getting annoyed. It’s childish. About to snap, you stop in front of the door to your former office. Surprisingly enough, he does as well. He opens the door without knocking and walks in, motioning for you to follow still. You do, taken off guard. And the trouble is merely beginning.

There are two people in the room other than you and Burns. You don’t know whether to laugh or what. Your only luck lies in being somewhat hidden by your boss’ body.

“Ferrington, you may leave,” he orders. You almost thank him.

“Sir, what’s the meaning of this? I was just about to-” her voice sounds so different outside of her bedroom but you would recognize it anywhere.

“I know, I don’t agree. Although you may keep Ferrington on your team if you insist, now, please,” he hints impatiently to Danni who leaves in hurry. Still your eyes meet as she walks through the door and the atmosphere shifts for a second. You curse under your breath, which brings attention to you. You nearly curse aloud.

“This is-" he’s about to introduce you but you can’t have it. You interrupt him and state your name and rank. There’s a tilt to Stella’s lips as she regards you. Finally it all clicks. You  _ know  _ her. You don't need to hear her introduction.  


“Detective Superintendent Stella-”

“Gibson,” you finish for her. There’s an amused smile on her lips. She doesn’t even try to hide it.

“Correct.”


End file.
